Dozens of architect David Adler’s grand country houses are scattered throughout the North Shore, but none of these historic structures has gained more notoriety than the lone example that stands in the Village of Winnetka.
It’s a fame earned not for the house’s unique design, but for a unique deal that saved it from the wrecking ball. In an unusual agreement, the 900-ton mansion was sold for $1 and moved down the street where it could be lovingly tended to by preservationists.
But now, seven years later, that much lauded happy ending has turned into a bitter controversy that serves as a glimpse into the highly complicated and sometimes fractious world of historic preservation.
On Friday, in an unusual confrontation, preservationists and the owners of the house squared off before a state advisory committee to present competing arguments over whether the 14-room building qualifies for listing on the prestigious National Register of Historic Places.
Unlike typical preservation debates, this latest controversy is not over a plan to demolish the house. The arguments instead revolve around the historical merits of the house and the importance of such arcane details as how it is positioned on the lot and the year when it was built.
The Chicago-based Landmarks Preservation Council of Illinois wants the house listed on the national register because, among other reasons, they say it showcases Adler’s creativity in putting together different architectural styles to create a grand country house.
The homeowners, on the other hand, say that the house is a poor example of Adler’s work and that many important historical features were lost when the house was moved, including a “motor room” and a second-floor patio, as well as original landscaping and terracing that were either demolished or left behind.
Furthermore, the homeowners have filed their own application for the national register that asks that the house be listed not because of its Adler origins but because it is a good example of the style of houses built in Winnetka in the first half of the 20th Century.
The committee postponed making a decision on Friday, asking both parties to submit more information. The earliest the state advisory committee will reconsider the merits of each application for listing the house on the national register is March.
Its decision is crucial. Any recommendation it makes will be forwarded to the Illinois Historic Preservation Agency, which will then forward it to the U.S. Department of the Interior for a final ruling.
At stake is an agreement between the landmarks council and the owners that allows the council to inspect the house and any remodeling plans. If the house is not listed on the national register, or is declared ineligible, the landmarks council will lose review privileges allowed under what it called a conservation easement. If that happens, the owners will be able to do whatever they want with the house, including tear it down, which the owners have said they would not do.
Adding to the tension is mutual distrust. Preservationists think the owners don’t want to preserve the house and that they are undermining attempts to put the house on the historic register. The owners think preservationists want the house in their complete control.
“They are not going to destroy the house. . . . This is not that kind of landmark preservation case,” said Kate Klaus, attorney for owners Suzanne and Donald Aleshire.
“I believe in preservation. Obviously, this (house) almost broke me,” said Suzanne Aleshire, who declined to speculate on how much money she has spent on moving, repairs, legal fees and the like. Aleshire said that she believes that the landmarks council is trying to take over the house.
“Obviously, they paid money to move the house, but they have been substantially enriched by the (ownership),” said Richard Stamm, an attorney for the landmarks council who said that the house is thought to be worth from $650,000 to $1 million. “They are taking every action possible to block the nomination.”
Council officials have said that their only goal is to protect the house, which has such significant details as a Steuben-glass framed fireplace, opalescent shell mosaics in the bathrooms, understated moldings and elegant scale. It it believed to be the only Adler house in Winnetka.
“We absolutely do not want to take over the house. They own it, and that is all there is,” said Donna Harris, executive director of LPCI.
Harris said that the Aleshires knew from the beginning that ownership of the house brought with it a number of conditions, including that the house be nominated for the national register.
Adler, who designed and built more than 40 houses in the first half of the 20th Century and who died in 1949, evokes the same kind of awe on the North Shore as Frank Lloyd Wright does in west suburban Oak Park.
In 1990, philanthropists Patrick and Shirley Ryan, owned the home and applied for a demolition permit. Preservationists and historians complained that razing the house was akin to destroying a fine work of art. Eventually, the house was sold to the Aleshires. In 1991, they moved it across the street.
But in 1992, the landmarks council, believing that the Aleshires were dragging their feet on filing the required application for listing on the national register, sued in Cook County court to require them to comply. A judge ordered the Aleshires to file a national register application.
